


tangled up with you all night

by codesandhearts



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Multi, PWP, bellamy blake is a secret sub, literally my headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2569589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codesandhearts/pseuds/codesandhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They learn quickly that Bellamy is very loud in bed. Sticking something in his mouth is the only way they can get him to shut up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tangled up with you all night

**Author's Note:**

> i have literally written 4 fics for this fandom in a span of a week and promptly ignored my own novel and poli sci homework. partly because i'm scared they might kill off miller at any moment because he's brown and this is our world. who am i? what have i become?
> 
> is not necessarily a sequel [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2568707) but set in the same universe-ish

“Clarke, please. Shit, fuck, _fuck_.”

“Fucking hell, Blake, you need to learn to shut _up_.”

“But it’s so good.”

Clarke is behind Bellamy, two fingers in his ass, and Miller is in front of him, trying to kiss away Bellamy’s loud moans. Bellamy’s the only one of them that’s fully naked; Clarke’s still wearing her shirt and panties and Miller still has on his boxers and beanie (Bellamy has a weird thing about Miller’s beanie).

Bellamy pants heavily, going on and on. “Shit, Clarke, that’s good, I’m close, so close, oh –oh.” Clarke’s started eating Bellamy out and that turns Bellamy into mush, all intelligible noises and disconnected words. It thrills Miller to no one to know that literally no one else has this power over Bellamy Blake, their rebel king, their fearless leader. No one else but him and Clarke can get him down on his knees like this. No one Bellamy would rather please.

Miller comes round and kisses Clarke, tasting Bellamy on her lips, leaving Bellamy face down, ass up. If the bastard is being truthful, he likes it exactly like this. He goes round camp shouting orders all day and, at the end of the day, all he really need is good fuck.

Bellamy’s still a bit open from this morning so Clarke is sliding the fingers easy and smooth. Miller keeps kissing her as he enters his own finger.

“No, no, no, don’t do this to me. Nate,” Bellamy is begging.

“You don’t like it?” Miller asks teasingly.

Bellamy groans. “It’s too good, I’m not gonna last. I love you, I love you guys. _Fuck_ ,” when Clarke twists her fingers inside him.

Clarke rolls her eyes and tilts her head, as if to say, _go on, then_. She's already come twice tonight and now, now, she's just willing to let her boys blow off some steam.

“You want my cock, Bellamy?” Miller asks. “At least then you’ll shut up.”

“Yeah, Nate, yeah, please.”

He stands up, goes round the other side, and gets out of his boxers so his cock, already hard (how could it not be?), kind of hits Bellamy in the face, leaving a stripe of pre-cum on Bellamy’s face. It would be funny if Bellamy wasn’t pawing at him, opening his mouth eagerly. Miller guides his cock into his mouth and Bellamy makes a grateful sound.

“Yes, baby, you’re so good to me.”

Bellamy, honest to god, growls. He hates pet names, hates anything sweet like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’ but Miller loves them just because Bellamy hates them. Besides, he’s pretty sure it gets Bellamy hot whenever Miller calls him baby.

“He’s close. Aren’t you, Bellamy?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy’s mouth is still full of Miller’s cock. When he gets like this –so close to coming- he sucks cock like he’s never done it before. It’s spit-slick and over eager and so sweet.

And there it is. Bellamy’s jaw goes lax and he releases Miller’s cock just enough to groan because the bastard’s just come without any of them laying a hand on his cock.

Miller opens his mouth in a gasp when it’s his turn, painting Bellamy’s face with his come.

“So sweet for us, Bel,” Miller says, dropping to his knees and kissing Bellamy. Clarke comes over to him and demands kisses, too. “How loud do you think we were?”

“You mean how loud do you think he was?” Clarke says, patting Bellamy.

“C’mon,” Bellamy says. He’s lying down now, spread out on the floor, his cock limp against his stomach. “You like it when I run my mouth.”

“We have to.”

 


End file.
